Beach Ballin'

My (first attempt at) maternity swimwear arrived this week, and I can only liken myself to a sausage bursting out of its skin, with a beach ball at my middle.

It's strange, as for maternity items I've stayed at my usual size 10 for the time being - but have bought things up to a size 16 for the non-maternity bits. Comfort is key and I'm more concerned with the fit than the label. It's just a number?!

So there I am scrolling through asos to select my fave swimwear in my usual size, eagerly awaiting its arrival. And then they arrive and I try them on. Well. It was quite something to behold. I couldn't even get my boobies in one of the tops and the pale pink and white pattern really offset against the green of my veiny titties. Hey sexy holiday mama.

Luckily I decided to order a few bits in the hope that at least one would fit; it was a gorgeous hot pink, one shouldered, ruffled swimming costume in a size 12. I've realised all those words together make it sound like someone vomited the 80s, but I am ready to embrace the look and be a big ol' bumpy berry on my holidays.

I imagine I'll save any imagery of it for my week 24 #bumpingalong as that's when I'll be in the sunshine, mid-Baby Moon. In the meantime here's an apt animal representation of the trying on escapades:

Don't even get me started on the nerves of having to holiday groom though. Is it going to make me cry to get a wax when preggers? You know the way it's all a bit more sensitive down there when you're ovulating? Is that applicable when with child? How do you tense your stomach muscles in preparation when there's a small person chilling out in there?! So many questions for tidying your nethers.

At least I can still reach to shave my own legs - bet the other half can't wait until he has to Venus my shins.

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